


climbing stairs

by kipcoded



Category: Phan, Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 05:48:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9221696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kipcoded/pseuds/kipcoded
Summary: "'If stir-fry sounds good to you, I can – Dan?' Phil asked, hearing a sudden sob from behind him. He turned quickly to see Dan with his hands to his face, shaking with the force of a sob."(Dan's mum dies suddenly. Dan tries to hold himself together, but loses his composure entirely in front of Phil. Phil comforts him like the sweetheart he is.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> wanted to write a short little ficlet about phil comforting a completely distraught, grieving dan. my first go at writing them - figured i'd start out short and sweet ;)

In the immediate wake of events following Dan’s mother’s death, everything moved quickly.

The call had come in late one night, rousing both Dan and Phil from their sleep: A police officer telling Dan he was so very sorry, but his mother had died in a head-on collision with a drunk driver. She’d died on the scene and probably instantly, there’d been no suffering, and he was so very sorry for his loss.

Dan sat on the bed, hardly able to voice any kind of response. Phil was at his side, listening to the officer speak and rubbing Dan’s back, both of their faces frozen in horror. The call ended, and Dan began to cry more out of immediate distress than out of true understanding of the news he’d just received. He shoved himself off the bed and began frantically throwing clothes into a suitcase as he cried breathlessly and tearlessly, unable to register the full gravity of everything, behaving completely on autopilot, doing what he knew he needed to do. Phil followed suit, packing clothes while continually trying to hug his boyfriend and get him to talk more. Dan seemed too upset and confused for Phil’s support, so Phil just settled for helping him pack and making the arrangements for a last-minute, late-night train ride to Reading for them to be with Dan’s family.

Everything in the days that followed moved so fast. Dan was busy comforting his father and younger brother, talking to family friends and his own friends, going through his mother’s will and belongings with his family, making funeral arrangements, and generally taking care of business as he always did. Phil did his best to support him and try to offer to be his crying shoulder, his confidant, anything he could do, but Dan seemed to just want to get everything dealt with during the days before her funeral and then go to sleep at night. He wasn’t eating like he should, he was visibly worn out and grief-stricken, but he continued to push forward and get everything done.

The funeral was held a few days later, and Phil was surprised, but concerned at how well Dan ultimately held himself together. He’d cried a single time, when saying goodbye to her as her casket was lowered into the ground, and watching his family do the same, but he did just fine when accepting condolences, hugs, and flowers from the guests at the funeral.

Dan just didn’t seem to want to talk, and it deeply worried Phil. He couldn’t keep burying something so big and so painful for the sake of others. He couldn’t imagine how he’d feel if he were in Dan’s position.

A couple days later, they arrived back to London after a train ride where Dan had immediately put his headphones on and gone to sleep, squashing Phil’s plan of trying to get Dan to express some of his feelings during the journey.

Phil unlocked the door to their flat, chatting quietly and mentioning what he thought he might cook them for dinner as he pulled their suitcases inside, but Dan wasn’t hearing anything he was saying.

He stood with eyes locked on the stairs ahead of him, reality suddenly hitting him like a hard punch to the gut.

He would _have_ to climb those stairs.

He would have to go back to his life, go back to filming videos that would make his followers happy, planning the radio show, planning events and projects, and everything else. He would have to find a way to keep positive to do his work while he felt like his entire world had just been turned upside down. He had to climb that staircase and continue despite how terribly everything hurt.  
  
He’d never see his mum again. He’d never be able to call her while he cooked dinner to ask about things at home, or to ask for advice. He’d never see another encouraging text from her glowing on his phone screen, or hear another voicemail from her, cheerfully asking how he and Phil were doing. She was _gone._  
  
Suddenly, the staircase seemed impossibly tall, and staring at the expanse of steps ahead of him, it all hit suddenly him. It hit him that she was gone, that he’d have to move on, and Dan finally lost his composure.  
  
“If stir-fry sounds good to you, I can – Dan?” Phil asked, hearing a sudden sob from behind him. He turned quickly to see Dan with his hands to his face, shaking with the force of a sob.  
  
“Oh, Dan…come here,” He murmured, letting their bags and his keys falls to the ground so he could embrace him. Dan sagged against him, coughing as he miserably, helplessly cried. Phil pushed his head to rest against his shoulder, and used one hand to pet his hair while the other rubbed his back. Dan tried to say something, but it came out as a jumbled, indecipherable cry.  
  
“I’ve got you, baby…” Phil murmured, hugging him to his body. He could feel tears falling against his shirt and feel the force of each sob against his chest, his heart hammering.  
  
They stood like that, in their tiny hallway in front of the stairs with their bags cluttering the floor around them, while Dan miserably and uncontrollably cried, for a few agonizingly long minutes.  
  
“’M sorry,” Phil was eventually able to make out from one of Dan’s attempts to speak through the tears.  
  
“Sweetheart…you have nothing in the world to be sorry for. Absolutely nothing at all,” He murmured. “Why don’t I walk you upstairs to lay on the couch? I can get our stuff later, okay?”  
  
“I want to be with you,” Dan whimpered, tightening his grip on Phil’s shirt.  
  
“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. We’re going to go lie down together,” He assured him, smoothing a hand over his back. Dan nodded slowly, releasing Phil from his vice grip and allowing himself to be lead up the stairs and down the hall to the lounge.  
  
Dan fell heavily against the couch, and Phil moved to sit next to him. Dan dropped his head heavily against Phil’s shoulder, and Phil moved to wrap his arm around his shoulders, and kiss the top of his head. Tears fell out of Dan’s eyes, and there were hitches in his breathing.  
  
“Talk to me, sweetheart. If you’re ready to. If you just need to cry for now, that’s completely fine. But don’t bottle everything up. You don’t have to be strong. Let me help. Let me take care of you,” Phil murmured, taking Dan’s hand in his free hand and giving it a squeeze.  
  
“I should’ve called her more,” Dan said quietly after a moment, his voice wobbly. “I should’ve…I should’ve been a better son…” He whispered, the sobs beginning again.  
  
“Oh, Dan…you can’t let yourself think like that. Don’t beat yourself up. She knew you loved her, I know she did! She loved you too. You were ‘the apple of her eye’, remember? Told you that herself.”  
  
Dan just sobbed in response, more tears falling from his eyes. Phil pulled him closer, and kissed his forehead.  
  
“It’s unfair that she died so young so suddenly, and that you lost her like this. It’s unfair, and you are allowed to be upset, angry, and sad. It’s just important to remember the good memories more than anything.”  
  
Dan nodded. Phil reached to grab a tissue from nearby, and gently wiped Dan’s face and nose. He put it aside, and moved to hug Dan more fully. The younger just laid his head on his shoulder, breathing shakily.  
  
“I miss her…I wish I could have told her how much I loved her…before…before…”  
  
“I know, baby…” Phil murmured, rubbing his back as he began to gently rock Dan back and forth.  
  
They were quiet for a while, Dan breathing shakily against Phil’s shoulder, the occasional tear falling, and Phil gently rocking Dan back and forth from where they sat on the couch.  
  
“Bear, you need to eat something,” Phil said after a while. “You’ve barely eaten since we got that call.”  
  
“…Been too upset,” Dan admitted sleepily against his shoulder. “I’m still not very hungry.”  
  
“Could you eat some soup if I brought it to you? The vegetable kind I make that you like?”  
  
Dan didn’t reply for a moment, but then slowly nodded.  
  
“Okay, sweetheart,” Phil murmured, gently pulling away. “Why don’t you go change into some pyjamas? I’ll bring my duvet out for you.”  
  
Dan nodded slowly, accepting Phil’s hand when he stood up and held it out to help him up. He walked slowly into his room and tiredly dug up some pyjamas for himself, avoiding looking in his mirror as he changed. He was certain he looked absolutely awful. He walked back out to the lounge, where Phil was waiting with his duvet. He sat down on the couch, and Phil covered him with the blanket and kissed his forehead, flipping the TV on and handing him the remote after making sure the volume wasn’t too loud.  
  
Dan just stared at the TV numbly, still feeling the insurmountable weight of grief in his chest, but feeling better now that he’d expressed some of it to Phil, and feeling lucky that he had found such a caring, supportive, sweet partner.  
  
It didn’t take too long for Phil to return carrying two bowls of soup, handing one to Dan and getting under the duvet with him. The proximity was comforting, and the warm, homemade Phil-soup could help to heal almost anything: the flu, a stomach bug, and perhaps even a grief-stricken heart.  
  
They ate in relative silence, not needing to say much. After a while, they finished up, and both were surprised and pleased with how much Dan had managed to eat. Phil put their dishes aside, saying he’d get them later, and wrapped an arm around Dan’s shoulder, kissing his temple.  
  
“I love you,” He murmured. “So much. No matter what. I’m with you, for as long as you want me to be.”  
  
Dan teared up again, his overwhelming feelings of love for Phil and sadness for his loss combining as he cried against Phil’s shoulder and used his free arm to pull himself closer to him.  
  
“I love you, too...” Dan murmured through his tears. “I don’t know how I’d get through this without you.”  
  
“You don’t have to, baby. Why don’t we go get in my bed? Can tell you’re tired.”  
  
Dan allowed himself to again be led by Phil, this time to his bedroom, and laid down as the duvet was again placed over him. Phil quickly changed into his own pyjamas and joined him in the bed.  
  
“Phil?” Dan asked.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Can you rub my back like before? That made me feel really sleepy…” He asked, sitting up. Phil smiled and sat down, hugging him again.  
  
“Of course,” he replied.  
  
He gently pushed Dan to lie his head on his shoulder, and began smoothing his hair, using his other hand to rub circles into Dan’s back. He gently swayed him back and forth, creating a gentle rhythm.  
  
It only took a few minutes for Phil to realize Dan was completely, comfortably, deeply asleep against him, for the first time since they’d received the call.  
  
He carefully laid Dan down against a pillow, being as careful as he could not to wake him up, and scooted up to spoon him and wrap an arm protectively around his torso.  
  
He wished he could take Dan’s pain away, fix everything, and make him happy with the snap of his finger. But he couldn’t do that. The best he could do was be present and support Dan.  
  
But he would always, _always,_ do that.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr at freetheknee! i take fic prompts and art requests :)


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